


a Wall a Shield a Cup

by Gileonnen



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Microfic, Multi, Tweetfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gileonnen/pseuds/Gileonnen
Summary: A collection of microfics for Kabr/Pahanin/Praedyth.
Relationships: Kabr/Pahanin/Praedyth (Destiny)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Kabr

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me at [@gileonnen_again](https://twitter.com/gileonnen_again) to request fics of your own!

They cycle through Crucible randos all day--a hunter who only takes headshots; a titan who keeps plunging to her death. No one calls pushes. By evening, Praedyth is burnt out, surly.

"Pahanin, need you on B."

"I'll hold A," their new titan says.

"Thank you--" A pause.

"Kabr."


	2. Rivalry

Pahanin and Kabr know how to argue--Pahanin a barrage of half-formed thoughts, scattershot; Kabr slowly circling his thesis. They know how not to fight. They know how to kiss and concede.

But when the long slope looms and Pahanin's Sparrow roars, Kabr grins and guns his engine.


	3. Bitter

Pahanin and Kabr took their coffee hot and sweet--honey, spice, black-market cream, cayenne pepper that lingered on their kisses. They liked to make a ritual of it, and teased Praedyth for his half-dozen abandoned cups.

Alone, now, Praedyth sits with a cup cooling in his hands.


	4. Light

Pahanin's Light shatters into shining blades, which break on Kabr's shield. Pahanin laughs, streaming sweat. "Does _nothing_ gets through you?"

As the violet dome shivers apart, a torrent of lightning spears through Kabr's chest.

"Nothing," says Praedyth primly, "but patience."


	5. Silence

When Kabr keeps his silence, he hums to himself--lullabies, Top Fifty hits, aimless tunes that never find a melody. Pahanin's silence is percussive: fingers drumming, tools tapping tiny metal parts, cups clicking on tables. 

The silence of the Vault swallows them all.


	6. Unheard

Pahanin and Kabr hunch over a mechanical squid.

"I don't know why it exploded!" Pahanin insists.

"Probably the accelerant," rumbles Kabr, brow arched.

 _The motility rotor needs lubricant_ , says--remembers--Praedyth. Neither looks up.

The simulation dissolves. Praedyth is alone.


	7. Touch

Braced against his jumpship, Kabr bends down and lets himself breathe. Hands on knees. Deep breaths, down to his stomach. Hold. Release.

"Kabr?" Praedyth's hand settles on his shoulder, circling, soothing. Pahanin touches his hair.

He bows his head and lets himself be eased.


	8. Close

Sloppy-drunk, Pahanin curls up on Kabr's lap, hand at his collar. "Can you believe, a year ago I didn't even know you two?" he asks. "Imagine what I'd be without you. Imagine the sorry state of me."

Kabr kisses him--brow, lips, hennaed palm. "I can't imagine myself without you."


	9. Dance

Pahanin likes to lead; he catches Praedyth by the hand and whirls him around the room, eyes alight, their gold-embroidered cloak and robe streaming behind them.

But when Kabr cuts in, Praedyth watches the momentum shift--Kabr's hand at Pahanin's waist, guiding him into a turn.


	10. Dream

Kabr stands amid the golden grasses of Mercury, bleeding sparking radiolaria.

"This metaphor is awfully unsubtle, don't you think?" says Pahanin. The gun in his hands clicks, empty.

Kabr snaps awake and reaches for Praedyth.

He'll understand a dream that felt like a vision.


	11. Prank

Praedyth has learned to expect a prank when he comes back from a long solo mission. The keys reorganized on his keyboard; googly eyes on all his favorite mugs. Little gestures that say Pahanin is bored and misses him. It's sweet, in a slightly infuriating way.

This time, though, when he and Pahanin stumble through the door together, his guard is down. He almost flings himself down on the bed before realizing that it's been replaced with a flowerbed.

"Love you," says Kabr guiltily; Pahanin's laughing too hard to explain himself.


	12. Skin

Pahanin's heard his skin called "flawless," and it's not much of a compliment. Praedyth has a thousand freckles and moles that Pahanin can trace into constellations; Kabr's sun-rough skin tastes deliciously of sweat. They're _particular_ , and their particularity is what he loves.


	13. Tremble

By the end of their third week in the ruins of Mars, Praedyth's hands are so cold that he can't fumble shells into his shotgun. He can barely find the cold thread of Void Light any longer; it only feels like more of the Martian chill. "Go ahead without me," he says.

Pahanin, already armored, sits beside him. He folds Praedyth's trembling hands in his own, turning them over and clasping them. A trickle of Solar Light pours from his fingertips, and Praedyth gasps at the surge of warmth.

"We can wait," says Kabr, and he pulls him close.


	14. Path

Pahanin sweeps the route with his scope, seeking the telltale red outline of a foe. 

"What do you see?" Kabr asks.

"I'm seeing juniper," he reports. "White pine. Closer to the ground--bluebells?"

Praedyth begins to sigh relief, so Pahanin adds, "Oh, and about thirty dregs."


	15. Work

"If we take some extra Vanguard bounties, we might just squeak through this month," says Praedyth at last. "It will be tight."

"I'll be more careful with our money," says Pahanin, remorseful.

Praedyth grins over at Kabr, cradling his new rocket launcher in his arms. "Don't be."


	16. Relief

They wait on the transmat pad, Pahanin scribbling in his journal, Kabr keeping an eye out for Vex. When Wei and Eriana finally transmat down, Praedyth wraps them both in a hug.

"Bet you're ready to be home," laughs Wei.

Praedyth grins. "Honestly, wasn't much of a difference."


	17. Shift

Pahanin can't remember when things change--when Kabr's comradely hand first lingers on his shoulder; when Praedyth first smiles up at him with affection in his eyes.

He remembers only this: his hands finding theirs, his whole heart aching, and neither one of them letting go.


	18. Motion

A fireteam of three can control the flow of battle--in theory.

"For fuck's SAKE!" snarls Praedyth for the eleventh time. "If you can't clear adds fast enough--"

"What do you want from me?" Pahanin demands. "I shot my tether, just like you asked--"

Kabr just sighs and reloads.


	19. Wild

After they crawl through a wash thick with thorns, Kabr rhapsodizes about the acacias.

"The wilds are not for me," Pahanin proclaims, picking thorns from his cloak.

"The better you know them, the easier they are to love."

Pahanin nudges Praedyth. "Think he just likes pricks."


End file.
